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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626339">the ghosts that we knew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sludgemiser/pseuds/sludgemiser'>sludgemiser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, First Time, Hallucinations, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isolation, M/M, Pining, Tenderness, overabundance of woldbuilding, spending months stranded on a ship might fuck with your head</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:07:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sludgemiser/pseuds/sludgemiser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn Fairwind shouldn’t be on this ship. In fact, Flynn Fairwind is not on this ship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Tandred Proudmoore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Love is in the Air Fic Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts"></a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> But I will hold as long as you like<br/>
Just promise me we'll be alright </em></p>
</blockquote><p>As if everything else wasn’t going wrong, they lost their Tidesage.</p>
<p>Walked right overboard yesterday in broad daylight, as if the fellow didn’t have a care in the world. As if he was just going to take a stroll down onto the water. </p>
<p>Tandred didn’t see it himself, but he heard the splash. Trapped in this wretched fog with no wind, limp sails and glassy seas, every sound was like a cannon-blast and a man sinking himself was no different. Slipped under the waves without even a shout and never resurfaced, but still  the sound was like a gunshot piercing everyone onboard. </p>
<p>One full turn around the base, then figure-eight around the horn… Tandred pulled the salt-bleached rope around the cleat anchored to the deck, re-securing the lines on the davit crane that held their dinghy boat. If anyone else went over, he’d fish them back out himself.  </p>
<p>Brother Shipdon was a bastard anyway, Tandred decided.</p>
<p>Actually, he’d decided that weeks ago, when the Tidesage refused to give any answers as to the state of the weather, didn’t even look to be trying to get them out of this terrible lull. Shipdon had known something, Tandred suspected. He’d tried to work it out of him kindly, going round to the rectory cabin with warm food and optimistic smiles and good-natured questions, trying to ask after the positions of the currents, the positions of the stars, anything he could think of to try to prompt Shipdon to bring the wind back. For his trouble, he was given some malarkey about the troublesome undertow in this part of the sea and had the door practically slammed in his face more than once.</p>
<p>The sheer nerve of it was unreal. As much as Tandred hated to pull rank, there was a certain amount of respect one had to show to a Captain, much less a likely future Lord Admiral. Thank the depths he hadn’t reached that station yet -- but he couldn’t shake the feeling that no man, Tidesage or otherwise, would have spoken that way to his father. Or his brother. Or his sister.</p>
<p>No matter. Tandred didn’t care how blessed the musty-robed bastard had been, he and his ilk had stranded the fleet either through malice or incompetence. When they got back to Boralus, he would have seen Shipdon court-martialed for insubordination. He should have thrown him in the brig till then. He should have made the man talk. </p>
<p>Too late for that now.</p>
<p>They still had to figure how to get back to Boralus. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tandred Proudmoore could hitch a cleat at the age of four, that was one of the first things his father had shown him. Daelin had left Derek to explain most of the sailing know-how to Tandred, but the man had taken a personal pride in making sure that all his children knew the basics of knots and ropework. </p>
<p>He’d started them out on a little jolly-boat, just a piddly thing with one sail and one set of oars. Jaina dubbed it <em>The Goldfish</em> and the name stuck, although Tandred had argued long and hard that <em>The Sea Serpent</em> was a better name anyway. </p>
<p>On a good day, the three of them would be able to get it out into the Boralus tideway and Daelin and Katherine would watch them from the steps of the Keep. When they’d return at the end of the day, sun-burnt and windswept, Daelin would give a long lecture on the state of the lines and the importance of tying them tightly. Docking up was a favorite topic of his - if the three of them let their little ship drift off in a storm because of a forgotten line, they weren’t getting another one. </p>
<p><em>The Goldfish</em> had been Derek’s first until he went off to the academy, then nominally Jaina’s until Tandred had liberated it from her. No sense in having it be hers if she was too busy doing lady-things like dancing and Thalassian lessons, he’d argued at the time. </p>
<p>At the age of ten, <em>The Goldfish</em> was Tandred’s first ship. Now, he feared he might be aboard his last. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tandred sat back, regarding the cleat. No.. he wound it wrong. Missed a loop, halfway through. With a sigh, he wove the rope back the way it came, under and over, until he could start again.</p>
<p>By all accounts, this wasn’t his job… but there wasn’t much for a Captain to do these days, not in this wretched stillness. The longer they sat, the lower the rations got, the more severe his conversations with Quatermaster Jamison became. He could either spend his afternoons doing dreadful math or re-checking the lines and, given the option, he’d choose the lines every time. </p>
<p>Over and under, over and under around the cleat… Tandred paused again, frowning. Again, he messed up the weave.</p>
<p>With a tiny noise of frustration he began to unwind it, recoiling the rope until he felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. Tandred turned, looking up.  </p>
<p>“Here, mate,” Flynn Fairwind said brightly, stepping from behind Tandred and reaching down to take the rope from his hand. “I’ll trade you for a moment. Although if you can’t winch a cleat, I’d best not be handing you any more drink.” Without waiting for an answer, Flynn pushed the flask he’d been nursing into Tandred’s hand in exchange for the rope. It’s Fallhaven moonshine by the smell of it. Tandred took a small, grateful sip. </p>
<p>“You’re one to talk,” Tandred grinned up at him, his brooding mood fizzling just at the sight of Flynn’s ginger hair and bright grin. “How many times have you nearly run aground from being dead drunk at the helm?” </p>
<p>“Nearly doesn’t count,” Flynn corrected, “If you were any fair at all, you’d only count actuals… but I’m not the one with a reputation to keep, <em>Lord Admiral.”</em> </p>
<p>“Cut that,” Tandred snorted, leveling a finger at Flynn. They both know it’s a sore subject; Tandred didn’t wish to to dwell on now. “It’s not happened yet.” </p>
<p>Flynn shot him a grin before turning to the cleat. He tutted at the state of the rope in front of him, pressing a hand to his forehead in a mock-faint. “Tides below, is this what they teach you at the Academy?” He knelt to fix it with deft hands, making quick work of the loops that had defied Tandred. “No wonder I could outsail any of your fancy-buttoned privates even with half and crew and three bottles down.” </p>
<p>“Oh, sure, except for the times when you didn’t,” Tandred made an exaggerated count on his fingers. “What was it, Two tours of Tol Dagor? Three? Before you gave up your life of crime.” </p>
<p>“Mm. Just saying, here’s proof that the Freehold School of Plunder is coming out on top yet again,” Flynn said with a shrug, sitting back and plopping himself on the deck now that the line has been cleated properly. He grabbed for his drink back, his touches friendly and fond as he leaned over Tandred’s lap to snatch at it. “Just learning practical knowledge will serve you well. No need for all of that waking up at five in the morning and running laps around the Keep.” </p>
<p>“Why do you think I dropped out?” Tandred snorted, handing the bottle back after a moment of holding far out of reach. To be fair, the drills weren’t the main reason for him dropping out...but they certainly didn’t help. </p>
<p>“All that Yessir-ing and Nossir-ing is enough to melt the brain, that’s what I say,” Flynn continued, gesturing out at the fog. “It’s no wonder you lot got yourselves lost out here.” </p>
<p>The smile froze on Tandred’s face as his mind ran headlong into a complete wall. The exchange was so smooth and so seamless, it takes him a good minute to register what’s happened here… and even then his brain struggles to keep up. </p>
<p>Flynn Fairwind shouldn’t be on this ship. In fact, Flynn Fairwind is not on this ship.</p>
<p>Tandred left him in Boralus with a clap on the back and his best wishes, he knows for sure that he did. He had stood on the deck and watched Boralus disappear over the horizon, thinking of Flynn all the way, wishing he’d finally give in and sail with him. Flynn was never very interested in taking part in Tandred’s “family business” as he called it. Every time Tandred would ask, Flynn would give a cheeky wink. “You’d have to marry me in for it to matter to me,” he’d say, turning a blind eye to the little flush that always started up in Tandred’s cheeks. </p>
<p>But… here’s Flynn, plain as day. Smiling, laughing, nursing a drink. Wearing his same old coat and shining with his good humor, just as Tandred saw him last.</p>
<p>
  <em>What in all the hells…?</em>
</p>
<p>He felt the deck spinning in a way that has nothing to do with the rock of the ship. Did he stow away? No, no, Flynn wouldn’t have any reason to hide. Even if he did, there wouldn’t be any reason to keep the act up once the journey was underway.</p>
<p>Had Tandred gone mad? First Brother Shipford, now him? </p>
<p>Flynn bumped him with an elbow, trying to stir him out of his reverie. “You look whiter than my backside in the dead of winter,” he said, offering the drink back to him. “What’s eating you? You forget where you’re stuck? Scenic south sea… fog thicker than Anglepoint Chowder. Makes quite an impression, I’m sure.” </p>
<p>Tandred shook his head, words not coming immediately. He took a moment to fiddle with his hat, lifting it to smoothing his hair down before placing it back on his head. </p>
<p>“Just surprised to see you, that’s all,” he said, his hand reaching for Flynn’s sleeve. He needed to touch him. Just to see if he’s real. </p>
<p>“What am I supposed to do, watch you cock up a cleat and just leave it?” Flynn laughed, seeing what Tandred is after and readily taking his hand. He feels warm and solid, skin coarse from being wind-chapped. Same as ever. Real as ever. “Can’t have you forgetting your knots, mate. Need you to get home safe.” </p>
<p>“Yeah?” The bottom drops out of Tandred’s stomach as Flynn gives him a brief, knowing look.  Tandred said, after a moment, his throat dry, “And what do you know about that?” </p>
<p>“Been waiting for you, that’s all,” Flynn says. “Folk are starting to get worried.”  </p>
<p>Tandred swallowed thickly, nodding. “It’s only been a couple of weeks,” he insisted after a moment. It’s the same line he’s stood by to reassure every man that’s come to him nervous about the state of things. “The weather will break. We have a few months of provisions stocked. With this many men we can ration for a good nine months if we must.” </p>
<p>“Tand, it’s been four months already,” Flynn said, chewing his lip and shaking his head. “Might need to check your log.” </p>
<p>Tandred frowned, shaking his head. “It’s been four weeks, two days. You think I haven’t been keeping track? You think I’m not checking stocks and supplies and logs every day?”</p>
<p>Flynn made a noncommittal noise, not convinced but also not about to argue the point. He fiddled with the lid of his flask, twisting it round and back again. “Just check, yeah? And be careful.” </p>
<p>“If you want,” Tandred relented, rubbing a hand over his face.</p>
<p>When he looked back up again, Flynn’s gone. The deck is as empty as ever, the gloom just as heavy. He felt his heart sink as fast as it rose when he saw he had company… somehow, he hoped this vision would last a bit longer. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>It was surprisingly easy to come to terms with the idea that he might have gone mad. </p>
<p>At their current pace, he reasoned, it would happen to all of them eventually. Of all of the maladies a man’s mind can conjure, being stricken with visions of the dashing Captain Fairwind offering him drink and good company were far from the worst. Tandred couldn’t complain, really. </p>
<p>It certainly made the isolation easier… that was, if it happened again. He just needed to puzzle out how to trigger it. </p>
<p>Tandred found himself looking over his shoulder as he went about his day, glancing down the tables in the mess hall and peering into his shaving mirror in his cabin. Searching for a flash of ginger hair and listening for a friendly voice. On one hand it felt pitiful, like he’s a Dampwick wretch begging for just one more smoke -- on the other, well. All he had to do was think back to Flynn’s familiar handiness, the lilt to his voice, the scent of his cheap soap and it hardly matters. Under normal circumstances and on typical voyages, Tandred would make a careful effort not to miss Flynn. Now he ached just to take his hand again. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Supplies, captain?” Quartermaster Jamison asked, almost sounding surprised to be asked. </p>
<p>“We’ve made it this far,” Tandred said, tapping his pen absentmindedly on his desk, his brow furrowed. “How many days has it been since we set off?” In the time since he saw Flynn up on the deck, he hasn’t forgotten a word of their exchange. The bit about the logs seemed particularly important. </p>
<p>Jamison hesitated, shifting from one foot to another. “There are some discrepancies,” he admitted. “My log counts today at fourty-four days. I’ve heard some of our other ships have counts at fifty or fifty-two days. Casek on the Whitetail swears it’s just been thirty-six.” Tandred frowned and the man continued at once, the words spilling out of him with nervous energy. He wondered how long Jamison has been sitting on this information. “If we could get all of us on the same ship,” Jamison said, “and comparing notes we could likely find the error--” </p>
<p>“I trust your log,” Tandred said, waving a hand to cut him off. He shook his head. “Taking men off their ships seems like a treacherous business. There’s no telling when we’d be able to get them back. I won’t see a ship shorthanded just for the sake of bookkeeping that’s going to be impossible to keep anyway.”</p>
<p>If all this was true, there was a strange thing happening with how time was passing. Logs likely wouldn’t make a difference anyway, not at this point. He set his pen down. What they really needed was a mage.<br/>
Not for the first time, Tandred’s thoughts strayed to Jaina. If only she knew the trouble he was in... </p>
<p>Jamison nodded, but the man still seemed concerned. “But what of the supplies?” He asked. </p>
<p>“Each ship was stocked with the same number of portions for the same number of men,” Tandred figured, “If we all switched to half-rations at the same time, everyone should be at the same level. It will do for now.”</p>
<p>There’s only so much they can do in the face of this - before long they’ll surely be playing a juggling game of moving men about. His head hurt thinking about the math that will come, what to do about the ships that have had more days than less, what to do when the men come up hungry. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>That day came sooner than he liked.</p>
<p><em>The Red Dolphin</em> was one of the smaller ships sailing with the fleet, but she still held a company of 75 men to crew her. When word was sent that they’d sailed a hundred and thirty days when the rest of the fleet had only reported between sixty and seventy-five, Tandred ordered the ship abandoned. The best they could hope for was that the strange magic propelling The Dolphin forward in time would be only contained to the bounds of the ship herself. </p>
<p>Once they’d divided up and ferried all the men to various other ships in the fleet, there was brief debate as to the fate of <em>The Dolphin.</em> Some argued that she should be towed behind a ship that was keeping better to the timeline, some argued that she was clearly cursed in some deeply strange manner and ought to be left to the depths. Tandred found himself agreeing with the second position. In the end, they decided to set her ablaze </p>
<p>Tandred watched the operation from the deck of the <em>Tiragarde Heart</em> as best he could, just barely able to pick out the light of the fire through the fog. </p>
<p>The sight was more of a comfort than he expected. Even though he knew that they were surrounded on all sides by the full might of the Kul Tiran fleet, there was usually no way to see more than a ship or two to either side of them. Here was proof that they weren’t alone, that there were still others out there flanking them, living through this together. </p>
<p>He set aside his spyglass as heavy footsteps approached up the deck, clearly solid boots that sounded nearly like Petty Officer Hedra or Lieutenant Malyor. Tandred turned, expecting to see their sturdy faces… and instead finding the sunken, stern face of his father peering down at him. </p>
<p>“This is how you treat our ships, boy?” Daelin scoffed with his deep baritone, eyes dark and lip sneering. “You’ll leave the sea to take them?” </p>
<p>Tandred doesn’t say anything at first; the simple sight of his father took the words from his mouth. He felt the color drain from his face and his fingertips being to tremble from the adrenaline. If there was anywhere on board the ship to run to, he would… but somehow he knows his father’s ghost would have no trouble trailing him from cabin to cabin. </p>
<p>“Nothing to say to that?” Daelin snapped, shaking his head. “It’s because you know I’m right. Some Admiral you’ll make, set on burning the fleet.” </p>
<p>Tandred swallowed, his throat dry. “We can make more ships, father,” he said, his voice sounding higher and feebler than he wished it would. “Whatever magic this is--” </p>
<p>“Should have been cleared by your sages months ago,” Daelin interrupted him, “But you lost yours, didn’t you? Let them wander off?” </p>
<p>“He did it himself, I couldn’t do anything--” </p>
<p>“You shouldn’t have given him the chance!” Daelin bellowed, “Should have lashed him to the mast until the skies were clear! Should have keelhauled him until the currents stirred!” </p>
<p>Tandred pursed his lips and clenched his fists, turning away to glare out at the dark water beyond them. He didn’t respond. <em>Nevermind,</em> he decides, <em>if going mad has a chance to conjure the bones of my father, I don’t want it anymore.</em> </p>
<p>“Tides,” Daelin swore, spitting on the deck and eyeing Tandred’s turned back. “I knew our chances after Derek were piss poor, but I didn’t think my sorriest excuse for a son would be ruining the name of Proudmoore already.” </p>
<p>He exhaled sharply at that, wanting to turn and scream, lay every curse he can think of at his father’s feet, blame him for all that’s happened - to Jaina, to Derek, to him. To Katherine and Kul Tiras. His lip quivered despite his best effort to keep himself contained-- he has so much to say to Daelin that he would need a year to write it all out. How many times had he argued it out in his head, wishing he had one last chance to speak his piece? How could he now not remember a single word of it now? </p>
<p>“Hey, Tand,” Flynn said softly, catching him by his elbow, pulling him back from the brink. Just like that, the deck is empty now - wherever Daelin has gone, Flynn replaced him. Just solid, sturdy, gentle Flynn pulling him into a hug. </p>
<p>With a choked sound, Tandred crumpled into the expanse of Flynn’s chest. Shushing softly, Flynn moves to wrap his arms around him and they stand like that, right there on the deck in broad daylight. </p>
<p>“Hey, hey,” Flynn said after a moment of letting Tandred lose his nerve into the crook of his  neck, dribbling into his shirt, “none of that, hm? I shooed him off, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t be seeing ghosts,” Tandred mumbled miserably into Flynn’s shoulder, his hands moving to grip his coat lapels. “Something’s wrong with me - losing my nerve or… I don’t know.” </p>
<p>“Probably the nature of all this,” Flynn shrugged, nodding to the fog. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a fine job. All things considered. And hey, it can’t get any worse for you!” </p>
<p>“What’d’you mean?” Tandred sniffled.</p>
<p>“Well,” Flynn hesitated, clearly realizing he let more slip than he wanted… but also not about to lie to Tandred. “Back home they built you a grave, did you know that? There’s some very nice words on a shiny plaque, although I wish they’d asked me for a quote. I’d have made them chisel in something like <em>‘Tandred Proudmoore: Best Mate to Get Tossed out of a Pub With, Allergic to Shirts, Strangled by a Murloc, All-around Best Proudmoore.”</em> </p>
<p>Tandred didn’t laugh. “Am I dead?” He asked, feeling numb. His grip tightened on Flynn’s coat. <em>Tides, if he disappeared now... </em> “You’re not dead too, are you?” He’s not sure which would be the worst answer.</p>
<p>“We’re very much alive, far as I can tell.” Flynn laughed, “and I’m aiming to keep you that way, mate.” That was hard for Tandred to believe, but he had to latch onto every shred of hope he could find.  Flynn continued. “You’re a good man, doing what you think is right by your crew. Don’t pay any mind to the rest of it - you’re going to get these fellows out of here, no matter how many ships you decide to axe. Personally, I’d say you could stand to lose a few, maybe even the score between the two of us… not fair for me to have one and you to have hundreds.” </p>
<p>“I just want to go home,” Tandred whispered, not rising to the jabs. “Back to Boralus.” Back to you, he wants to add, but can’t find the nerve.  </p>
<p>Flynn raises a hand, cradling the side of Tandred’s face. He lowers his voice, sounding serious. “You will. You sure will, just got to keep that pretty blonde chin of yours up,” he says, giving him a grin as he rests his forehead against Tandred’s.</p>
<p>“Flynn…” Tandred started, not even sure what he’s about to venture to say. When he opened his eyes, however, Flynn’s vanished again without another word.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Lying awake at night in his bunk, Tandred couldn’t help but wonder; why did it have to be Flynn Fairwind? </p>
<p>Tandred had plenty of childhood friends, drinking buddies, or sailing mates that his mind could have conjured up in his madness. He could have dealt with any number of them. Could have handled Jaina or Derek or his mother showing up to give him a rallying talk, could have dealt with an old fling or even an old professor from the Academy.</p>
<p>Why was his mind set on conjuring up the one person who Tandred missed the dearest? The one he’d known the longest and best? The man who was probably busy at this moment getting routed at the card table or cheating at dice or being tossed out of someone’s bed. </p>
<p>He sighed, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow and creep a hand under the waistband of his sleep pants. It wasn’t the first time he’d fall asleep with Flynn’s name on his lips and face in his mind’s eye.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Above deck, below deck; Tandred wasn’t sure which was the worst place to spend his time.</p>
<p>Below, the walls felt like they were closing in. Above, the sky seemed about to drop on his head. Below, Tandred had practically memorized every knot in the woodwork. Above, there was nothing at all to memorize even if he tried. Night and day, it was just grey, grey, grey… </p>
<p>He’s stopped trying to measure “weeks since they left Boralus.”  Now it’s just “weeks since he’s seen Flynn.” By his count, it’s been four of them - coming down to 28 neat tallies left in the logbook on his desk in his quarters. Seeing him in dreams doesn’t count, he decided early on, although these days it was harder to tell what was waking and what was sleeping. </p>
<p>Today found Tandred idling up on the bow with the pretense of investigating a spot of rusting on the anchor mechanism. Really, he was just looking up at their great grey ceiling, listening for seagulls he knew weren’t there to call.</p>
<p>It was commonly said that Boralus had more gulls than rats… or ‘Dampwick chickens’ depending on how politely you wanted to call them. The ones in the Tradewinds Market were particularly notorious; any true Kul Tiran knew unloading on those docks meant bringing a separate tithe to distract the birds unless you wanted them diving and mobbing to peck your face. Tandred had seen more than one mainlander captain driven off just by the screeching terrors.  </p>
<p>Tides, he’d take Boralus’ gulls in a heartbeat compared to this eerie quiet.</p>
<p>He rubbed at his eyes, ears still straining for the cacophony of home. Carts on cobblestones, ships creaking, voices calling, dogs barking or gulls screaming… there was none of that out on the water. </p>
<p>However… very faintly from over the water he distinctly heard the clear, brassy pang of a bell.</p>
<p>Tandred turned, hope flaring thick and choking in his heart. Sure, there were lots of different bells on ships, all of them similar… but he <em>knew</em> this bell. He knew the ship it was bolted to, knew how she listed portside no matter how many times she’d been re-rigged, knew how her bilge leaked in the dead of winter, knew the creative ways her captain had patched up cannon shrapnel scars in her woodwork. </p>
<p>Lightning couldn’t have launched him across the deck any quicker. Tandred pounded up the stairs to the rear deck and drew his spyglass from the pouch at his waist, shoving it to his eye. A few men above deck watch him pass, alarmed, but he didn’t give them a second glance.</p>
<p>
  <em>Could it be…?</em>
</p>
<p>Yes, plain as day through the fog Tandred saw <em>The Middenwake</em> heading towards them at full sail. He exhaled sharply, his chest aching from the joy of it. Flynn must be aboard, must have found them, must have figured a way to get them out. Or at least, if he’s stuck in this wretched storm as well, he has supplies and fresh crew and maybe a tidesage or two who knows how the fuck to sage a tide.</p>
<p>Tandred let out a great whoop and snatched his hat from his head, waving it in the air. “Oy! OY!” he calls, <em>“Flynn!”</em> Flynn was surely too far out to hear yet, but Tandred was happy to scream his throat bloody just on the possibility that the man might have heard. “How’d you manage it, you scoundrel?”</p>
<p>He reached for his own ship’s bell, ringing it with merry abandon. In the stillness of the fog, he might as well have set off a round of cannons; in no time at all, the crew came pounding up the stairs from below deck, some hopping as they pulled their boots on.</p>
<p>“What is it, Captain?” Jamison called up to him as a whole host of spyglasses were pulled from pockets and pouches and belts. Just about every sailor on the ship tried to peer over the railing at once, looking to spot whatever Tandred was calling about. </p>
<p><em>“The Middenwake!</em>The thrice-damned <em>Middenwake,</em> who would have thought--,” Tandred saw that he looked confused so he circled back to clarify. “A ship, not one of ours. Captain Fairwind, a good man that I know, has broken through-- however he’s done it, we can surely manage it as well.” </p>
<p>Tandred turned back to the water and saw that the <em>Middenwake</em> was closer now, although not slowing her speed. On her current course she was set to pass alongside them. Perhaps Flynn meant to tack against the wind and come back around? He can see onto the deck clearly now, a man is waving a grey flag… No, no, it was his shirt. Tandred laughed as he spied it -- Flynn was standing on the deck in just his coat and trousers, waving his shirt overhead. </p>
<p>Tandred grinned fiercely. He grabbed one of the rigging lines to steady himself, then clamored up to stand on the railing to get a better look. From what he could tell, Flynn is light on crew… he can’t spot anyone else on deck. Then again, Tandred has known him to sail his whole ship just with himself and a second hand when he needs it. </p>
<p>On the deck behind him, Jamison still hadn’t said anything to this turn of events. The man lowered his spyglass, furrowing his brow at Tandred. “Where is she, Captain?” he asked, his tone strained, <em>“The Middenwake</em>, I mean.” </p>
<p>Tandred paused, turning to look first into Jamison’s confused face, then into the desperately hopeful ones of all the crew on the lower deck. <em>Could they not---?</em></p>
<p>“Bloody tides-- right there,” he snapped, pointing to Flynn in all his whooping, waving, shirt-optional glory. Not a bad sight to see after a long isolation… but Tandred couldn’t dwell on it given the dread bubbling up in his gut. Surely this wasn’t some sort of phantasm. Why would his mind conjure a whole ship? </p>
<p>Below, a rumble passed through the crowd. Men shifted from foot to foot, doubt clear. Tandred swallowed thickly, then turned back to the water, cupping his hands to his face. </p>
<p><em>“Captain Fairwind!”</em> he called, “Tell me you’re coming about!” </p>
<p>Jamison let that hang in the air for a moment, listening for a response, then cleared his throat politely. “Begging your pardon, Captain Tandred, but I don’t see anything,” he held his hands out in clear appeasement. “We can send some rowers out to look, we can get to the bottom of it--” </p>
<p>Down on the lower deck, a murmur of protest started up. The men clearly didn’t like the idea of being sent out in rowboats into this fog.</p>
<p>Tandred turned to them, jabbing a finger again out towards <em>The Middenwake,</em> “She’s right there, clear as day,” he snapped, raising his voice. “You have to be able to see it.” </p>
<p>Silence from the men. Many of them didn’t meet his gaze; others matched it just fine, jutting their chins out in defiance. </p>
<p>Jamison dropped his voice so only Tandred could hear and took a step closer. “Let’s get you down from there, Captain,” he said. “Imagine me explaining to the big ol’ Lord Admiral why you went overboard. Let’s not let that come to pass, eh?” </p>
<p>Tandred dragged a hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes. When he opened them, <em>The Middenwake</em> was still there on the water… although by now it sailed past them and was continuing along the course it was set on. He looped an arm around the line holding him steady and leaned over the water, trying to get another good look at Flynn with his spyglass. The fog swallowed them up too quickly, though, leaving just that thick grey wall again. </p>
<p>“He’ll come back around,” Tandred muttered, hearing his own pulse in his ears. “You’ll see, just give him a good few minutes.” </p>
<p>Jamison didn’t argue… but he didn’t look too confident either. Instead, he waved to the officers below to clear the crew from the deck. After some waving and barked orders, the men shuffled back down, bootsteps heavy on the steps leading below. </p>
<p>Tandred was ready to wait as long as it took. Tides bless him, Jamison stood quietly as well, watching the water alongside Tandred.</p>
<p>The man might have been lingering just to make sure Tandred wasn’t about to hurt himself rather than anything to do with Flynn… but to his credit, Jamison stayed until Tandred slumped from where he’d been on the starboard deck. After a solid few hours, Tandred finally had to concede that Flynn and <em>The Middenwake</em> weren’t heading back to them. </p>
<p>“Let’s get you below, Captain,” Jamison said gently, guiding him with a firm hand on his back. “Few days of bedrest might be best for getting you back to top form.” </p>
<p>-- </p>
<p>“Shh...” </p>
<p>It doesn’t take much to stir Tandred from his sleep. In usual circumstances, he would have grumped and grumbled at any man who came to wake him without reason… but all of Tandred’s irritation melted away the moment he opened his eyes and saw Flynn at the edge of his bed, sitting on the covers and kicking off his boots in the dimness of his cabin. Tides, the bed even creaked as he moved… these visions were becoming more painfully real by the minute. </p>
<p>Tandred sat half up in his narrow bunk. his brow furrowed as he remembered the events of the day and he leveled a finger at Flynn. “You,” he grumbled, “passed me by earlier. And made me look a damn fool.” </p>
<p>Flynn rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish as he kicked his second boot a distance away from the bed. “Just been trying to reach you, Tandy,” he said. “Thought I’d drop by to see how you were getting on. It’s getting harder, you know. That’s been my best shot yet.” </p>
<p>“Oh, and you’re managing it now?”</p>
<p>Aye,” Flynn said, not rising to Tandred’s testiness nor clarifying how he was managing to do this. “You needed some company.” </p>
<p>“My crew thinks I’m mad now,” Tandred crossed his arms. </p>
<p>“Word on the street is they’re all mad. All seeing things, all talking to the ones they’re missing.” Flynn gave him a shrug, itching his ear. “They shouldn’t be judging you. I’m willing to bet they’ve all done it in past days. Plus, if you’re worried about the ‘looking a fool’ thing, it’s not so bad when you get used to it. That’s me on the daily.” </p>
<p>Flynn gives him a bright grin, but Tandred doesn’t return it. Sure, the peevishness had drained out of him… now he was just stuck feeling morose. “I thought you’d come to rescue us,” </p>
<p>“Tides, I would if I could!” Flynn cried loud enough that Tandred was sure the next closest cabin might hear. “You know I would if I could, Tand. Things are getting stranger and stranger back home.” He starts to count off on his fingers, “Got caught by sirens, got shipwrecked, toured through Freehold again like the old days… would be nice to have you by my side through all of it. ”</p>
<p>Tandred swallowed around the lump in his throat. He ignored the tall tales, they were hardly ever true to begin with. What was getting to him was that last bit. “By your side,” he echoes. “Just as a good mate, then?”</p>
<p>Flynn gave him a level look and a shrug that seemed to say ‘Would I be here on your bed if I meant just as mates?’ He shook his head, then, getting more serious. Heartfelt, even. “However you’ll have me. And that’s how it’s always been, for what it’s worth. If it weren’t for all these duties you have and all these debts I have, imagine it. We could have our own crew, our own ship. I know the <em>Middenwake</em> isn’t up to par for the likes of you, what with all these fine admiralty ships around, but I know you don’t mind roughing it.” </p>
<p>“The quality of the ship isn’t the deciding factor here, Flynn,” Tandred countered, holding his face in his hands so that Flynn can’t see the ridiculous grin trying to take up permanent residence on his mouth.</p>
<p>“Just saying,” Flynn shrugged. “If you manage to find your way back home, perhaps your old ma wouldn’t mind you putting the pause on the Proodmoore stuff for a few months and let you go off for a jaunt around the South Sea with me. After all this, I figure you need some time off.”</p>
<p>Tandred looked doubtful. “As good as that sounds, I think i’ll need a good long stay on dry land first. Run through every tavern on Mariner’s Row twice over and then go... hug some trees or something.”</p>
<p>Flynn clearly loved that idea. He pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, fake swooning. “Oh, Tandred Proudmoore, becoming a landlubber? A homebody? giving up the sea for good? Never thought I’d see the day, my stars.”</p>
<p>Tandred honored that with a soft punch to Flynn’s arm which snapped him out of the act. “Alright, whenever you’re ready, then.” Flynn said. “Tides, perhaps we just go on a long trek up Gol Koval, get some mountain air and get killed by witches.” </p>
<p>Tandred shook his head at once. “No witches. No magic. I’m done with all that.” </p>
<p>Stormsong, then,” Flynn smoothly pivoted, “We’ll tell your ma that you’re off to spot check the troops up at that big fort up north. On the way there, we’ll take a pit stop in Brennadam and get so sloshed on mead they’ll have to cart us back home. You can take a piss off the docks at the Shrine of the Storm while you’re at it, for all the trouble they’ve caused you. Good wholesome fun all around.” </p>
<p>Might like that,” Tandred admitted, no longer able to contain his grin. It wasn’t easy to stay mad at Flynn Fairwind</p>
<p>“See? We’ve got plans now, so you best be getting yourself home or I’ll be terribly disappointed.” </p>
<p>Tandred knew that Flynn was only kidding. Another pang of melancholy struck Tandred’s chest anyway, however. “I want to keep that promise, Flynn. </p>
<p>“I know it isn’t for lack of wanting,” Flynn nodded, his voice soft. “Tides, if I could have anything right now, it would be you by my side.” He shifted up the bed, moving close enough to cup a hand to Tandred’s face. “Folk are working to get you back. By all accounts it shouldn’t be long now. Then we can discuss things proper. None of this distance, none of this lonesomeness… once you’re back in Boralus, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” </p>
<p>For a moment, he almost let himself believe that. </p>
<p>Tandred shook his head slowly. “All this false hope… no wonder I’m losing my mind,”</p>
<p>“Going mad, are you?” Flynn grinned, moving to press a finger to his Tandred’s lips. His touch lingered there for a moment, stroking along Tandred’s bottom lip… then Flynn surged forward, catching his mouth with his own. His kisses were soft, yet insistent -- and although Tandred tensed from the surprise, he relaxed just as quickly back as he felt Flynn’s rough hand tangling in his hair, course with sea spray. “Might as well enjoy it.“ </p>
<p>Flynn used his grip on Tandred’s hair to tip his head back, exposing Tandred’s bare neck. He latched his mouth to it, his movements urgent but not hard enough to leave a mark. “What’s this about false hope?” he murmured between the kisses. “Once you get back home you might be surprised.” </p>
<p>Tandred was too stunned to manage a reply anything more than a small whimper. Flynn, kissing him? Color flooded his cheeks and hot pangs of interest coursed all the way down to his core. Almost of their own doing, his legs fell open beneath the covers. This gave Flynn ample room to press closer… something that the Captain does not fail to notice. Flynn cocked an eyebrow, a grin flooding his face. Mercifully, he spared Tandred a smart remark. </p>
<p>Another wanton sound slipped from Tandred’s throat as Flynn pulled away, tugging his shirt off and making just as quick work of his trousers. Tides, all he wanted was for this to be real.</p>
<p>Nothing could be worse than the idea that occurred to him in that moment; that this is all he gets. Half-imagined, half-dreamed fumbling with the man he loved. Never getting the chance to <em>actually</em> say any of this to him, to never <em>actually</em> touch him like this. </p>
<p>The thought was too much to bear. In that moment, Tandred decided to cast it out of his mind. Surprisingly easy to do, actually, as Flynn’s crawling back into bed in just his shorts, the front of which had been tented considerably. Tandred got another hot rush to his gut - he’s glad he’s not the only one straining against his confines. </p>
<p>Flynn started on pulling the covers back, but he pauses. “Maybe you nobles like it with a sheet in between your rutting, but I need you on me, Tand,” he nods, breathless with sincerity. “That alright?”</p>
<p>“Get in here,” Tandred tossed the covers back, motioning for Flynn to come. He appreciates him being gentlemanly enough to ask for permission, but he had to know that there wasn’t a chance in all the hells that Tandred would refuse him.</p>
<p>Flynn didn’t need to be told twice. He was under the blankets with one hand tangled in Tandred’s hair and the other creeping over his belly in seconds, kissing him like a man drowning. Really, it was more like a horny tackle than an artful seduction, but Tandred wasn’t going to be the one to complain. </p>
<p>Flynn slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Tandred’s shorts, taking eager hold of his cock. In that moment, Tandred decided that he was never wearing anything to bed again - it would be nude sleeping forever now, just in case another moment like this ever happened again.</p>
<p>As he kissed him, Flynn began to stroke along Tandred’s shaft, setting a slow and insistent pace. <br/>Tandred twitched to full-mast in record time; just as quickly, he was bucking into Flynn’s warm grip, moving along with the pace Flynn set and clinging for dear life with both arms flung around Flynn’s neck. </p>
<p>Just before Tandred reached a depth of wantonness he didn’t know he actually could muster, Flynn’s hand stilled, holding him firmly around the base. </p>
<p>“Flynn…” Tandred started but Flynn was already on the move, pushing the covers back, shifting to crawl down the bed and taking Tandred into his mouth. He hardly had enough time to process it before Flynn swallowed him down with a low groan, as if having Tandred’s cock down his throat is scratching a long-bothersome itch. If Tandred could manage coherent language at that moment, he might have agreed with the sentiment. </p>
<p>Tongue swirling and lips sucking, Flynn finished him off in record time. He didn’t even skip a beat as Tandred grabbed handfuls of his hair, his hips fucking forward of their own accord; he swallowed down every drop of him until Tandred finally stilled and released him.</p>
<p>“How’d you manage...” Tandred panted, “to learn all that...?” </p>
<p>“Freehold,” Flynn shrugged, wiping at his mouth. He took a moment to re-set his hair tie before snuggling close to Tandred, slotting beneath his arm to lay his head on Tandred’s chest.  “Learn all kinds of skills.” </p>
<p>Tandred probably should have figured. Absently, his fingers traced along the curve of Flynn’s bicep, circling a nipple. Not teasing as much as comfortably exploring. </p>
<p>Laying like this was peaceful, apart from the elephant in the room: the hard line of Flynn’s cock pressed against Tandred’s thigh, all warm and leaking against his skin.  </p>
<p>“What about you?” Tandred asked softly once his heart rate stilled and he remembered how to speak in Common. </p>
<p>As if by answer, Flynn’s hand trailed back to Tandred’s cock… then continued downwards, stroking past his balls and towards his entrance. “If you’re not opposed,” Flynn murmured, close enough to whisper into Tandred’s ear. He drops his voice a full octave, speaking darkly. “I’ve always wondered what noises you’d make if I took you.” </p>
<p>Tandred’s heart fluttered and a noise slipped out of him that sounded like he was dying. Flynn pressed a kiss to his temple. “Seems you’re answering my question all by yourself.” He pulled away and for a moment Tandred feared he'd scared him off, but no, Flynn had simply rolled over to hang off the bed and paw at his discarded trousers. A moment later, he brought back up a little vial, wasting no time with coating his fingers. </p>
<p>“You’ve not done this, have you?” Flynn asked softly, leaning up to kiss Tandred as he resumed circling his hole, dipping in only once Tandred seems ready. “Relax,” he whispered into Tandred’s flushed chest, taking his sweet time. </p>
<p>HIs cock began to perk back up again with interest as Flynn added a second finger, switching lazily from scissoring him open to sliding in and out, clearly searching for the right angle to drive Tandred mad. Flynn even hit it a few times, leaving him with a growing smug grin that Tandred does his best to kiss off his face. </p>
<p>“Learned this  in Freehold too?” Tandred asked, already breathless. </p>
<p>Flynn gave him a sharp smile and a noncommittal shrug. He pulled his hand free, occupied with pouring a new measure of oil into his hand to coat his cock. “I could fill a bookshelf with the sordid details… but really, it’s piss poor bedroom talk.” </p>
<p>“Can’t imagine that’s ever stopped you before.” </p>
<p>Flynn can’t help but laugh. “Let’s just say you’d be surprised at the number of situations in life you can sleep your way out.” </p>
<p>“Does this count as one?” </p>
<p>“Mate, this is a situation I’m sleeping my way <em>into.”<em></em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tandred attempted to sit up again, feeling impatient to be filled. Even in the dimness of the cabin, Tandred could see that Flynn’s cock was painfully flushed, glistening with lube and his own steadily dripping pre. Tandred can’t wait to get it in him. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Let me?” Tandred asked, keenly aware that Flynn has touched nearly every inch of him, inside and out. He’s not yet been able to repay much of the favor. With Flynn’s permission, he took it in hand, experimentally pulling the skin back as he stroked along it, the pad of his thumb dragging slowly across the head. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Perhaps this isn’t all just a trick of his mind, Tandred thought dizzily. After all, none of his other daydreams ever included this level of spectacular detail. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Flynn made a small, urgent noise and gently swatted at Tandred. “No sense in me opening you up if you’re just going to make me spill in your hand.” He pushed tandred’s shoulder back down into the pillows again. “Let me have you.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tandred couldn’t help but nod and groan happily just from the thought. His hand strayed to his own cock as Flynn grabbed his hips to position himself and pushed in slowly, not meeting any resistance as he gradually hilted himself. Tandred felt a sweat breaking out on his brow; as talented as Flynn’s fingers were, they had nothing on thick length now splitting him open. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Alright?” Flynn asked, pausing once he was fully inside. Tandred only answered by grabbing Flynn and pulling him down into another kiss. Flynn took that as encouragement, moving slowly only for a few pumps of his hips before ramping up to a jerky, frenzied desperation.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The cabin creaked with the movements of the bed. Not for the first time, Tandred was glad that the captain's quarters on Kul Tiran ships weren’t anywhere near the other officers. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Soon, too soon, Flynn stilled to a shaky, erratic pace, driving hard and deep. “Tand,” he panted, “I’m--” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>However, Flynn didn’t manage to get to the end of the sentence. His hands gripped Tandred's hips as he buried himself deep in one final thrust and spills, hot and thick. He buried his face in Tandred’s neck as he wrung out years of pent up want from inside himself. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>As promised, Tandred let a truly angelic sound slip from his throat and came again into his hand, back arching as much as it can with Flynn’s weight weighing on his chest. The pair of them made a sticky, damp mess… but Tandred couldn’t bring himself to care. It took a colossal effort to roll over, facing each other in the narrow bunk, both heads on the single pillow. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Once he was back to his senses, Tandred hugged Flynn tightly, burying his face in his broad chest. Now that they were both spent he had a terrible suspicion that Flynn might vanish into thin air at any moment. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, “I don’t want to wake up alone.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Flynn didn’t respond at once. He was laying with his eyes closed; for a moment, Tandred feared he'd already nodded off. After a long moment, however, he reached to run a hand through Tandred’s hair, twirling it along his fingers. “We’ll see each other soon,” he finally landed on as he pressed a kiss to the top of Tandred’s head. “I’ll be here as long as I can.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>There’s that sob crawling back up his throat. Tandred chokes it down again. “Promise?” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Cross my heart, Tand. Not long now.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Flynn did seem to slip off after that but Tandred stayed awake long into the night, studying the curve of his face and his ear and his neck in the dimness. The ginger of his hair, the sunburn on his cheek, even the way he snored softly into the pillow. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>As much as Tandred tried to fight it, sleep did take him just as the sky was starting to lighten near daybreak. As he suspected later that morning, he wakes to an empty bed. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>--- </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tandred kept an admirably straight face some weeks later when he heard Jaina’s lullaby hummed softly out over the water.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em><em>Just how the sea was twisting his mind today,</em> he figured. He didn’t even realize that every man in the fleet could hear it as well until the lightning clap came. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Bells ring out over the water and the fog clears… </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Captain, pirates in our harbor!” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>---</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>As is his duty, he’s the last one off of the last ship. Tides, Tandred has never been so glad in his life to see land. <br/>Unloading the men gives him enough time to survey the harbor, although he still doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. Ashvane banners are floating in the harbor, men are being dragged off pirate ships and loaded up for Tol Dagor by the wagon-full and of all things, there’s ships with Alliance colors absolutely everywhere.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>This wasn’t the Boralus he’d left… but it was better than no Boralus at all.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Actually, he decides once he steps off the gangway and gets tackled by his Mother and <em>Jaina, of all people,</em> this new Boralus seems far better than the old one. (The jury is still out on the Alliance flagship lingering like a fat blue beetle in the harbor, though.)</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>As much as he loves his mother and sister, there’s still one more that he needs to see. As soon as he can, he slips away through the crowd, searching… searching... </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Until he gets practically tackled by a ginger and leather blur. Flynn Fairwind hauls him up and spins him around in a tight hug, their coats flaring out as they twirl.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You were right, Tides, I can hardly believe it,” Tandred swears, cupping Flynn’s face but stopping short of anything more. It physically hurts to keep from kissing him - it feels as if his whole body is being pulled to crash into Flynn in this moment. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m always right, one of my better qualities,” Flynn says with false bravado… but then cocks his head, blinking as he slips on a friendly smile to cover his confusion. “Which, ah, which thing are you meaning this time?” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Your promise,” Tandred says, feeling like he’s just about to slip over the edge of babbling. “You- on the ship- I mean,” he stops himself as recognition doesn’t bloom on Flynn’s face.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>So it was true, then. Everything that happened at sea was just a delusion. Here was Flynn, but not the one he’d dreamed up. Not the one that wanted to sail the South Seas together, or climb mountains in Drustvar or trash meaderies in Brennadam. Not the one who wanted to be more than just mates, not the one who had kissed him. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tandred presses a hand to his forehead and Flynn takes a respectful step back, giving him space to sort himself. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot. Just from what I’ve heard folk talking about in the crowd here ,” Flynn says, talking mostly just to fill the pause. He places a reassuring hand on Tandred’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you Tand. Lots happening here these days, I would have liked to have you at my side for it. I realized once you were gone that I should have said something to that effect sooner.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“I had similar thoughts,” Tandred says slowly, eyeing him. Understatement of the year, in his books. “I thought about it a lot, actually, every moment of every day,” he takes a shaky breath, stepping closer, feeling like he’s speeding down railway tracks without any brake in sight. “All I wanted was one thing, one simple thing, a question, really--”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Anything,” Flynn nods, brow serious. He can tell Tandred’s worked up about whatever it is. “Ask away.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Tandred barely hesitates, grabbing Flynn by the jacket lapels. He pulls him in to mash their faces together into a kiss, inelegant and desperate.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Flynn doesn’t respond at once, Tandred supposes he doesn’t expect him to...but after a second Flynn roars back, kissing him with abandon, one hand cradling his cheek and another at his back, kissing him breathless. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>No, this isn’t the Flynn he kissed on his ship, but it’s the one he’s kissed now. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ah-- Last couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking up a trip,” Tandred continues once they pull apart,  “Your choice - we can either go get murdered with witches camping up the mountains in Drustvar or tossed out of the meaderies in Brennadam.” </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Flynn’s eyes widen in surprise. “Mate, I’ve been thinking about exactly the same sort of thing.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wanted to be able to post all of this at once but the second half will be coming in the next couple of days</p><p>also yes there will be smut. the rating is gonna get bumped.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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